


All the Roses of London

by EnduringChill



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Silly Sherlock, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6019516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnduringChill/pseuds/EnduringChill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a Tumblr drabble challenge. Sherlock misunderstands Lestrade's Valentine's Day suggestion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Roses of London

**Author's Note:**

  * For [involuntaryorange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/involuntaryorange/gifts), [Itsallgood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsallgood/gifts).



> This was done in 10 minutes and barely proofread and most definitely not beta'd. Do not blame them for the lameness. 
> 
> A small gift for itsallgood's birthday.

The strong fragrance of roses nearly knocks John over as he pushes the 221 door open. As he climbs the steps to the second floor, the scent only gets stronger. He stops two steps from the second floor landing. It's definitely not a candle to cover up some noxious experiment. When John had left in the morning, the fridge had been clear of body parts and all the chemicals safely stored away. In fact, the flat almost looked respectable. 

John thinks to the second possibility. Stalker? Neither he nor Sherlock had received any odd mail or emails. In fact, things had been slow or relatively normal lately. Old enemy returning? This smells of Irene Adler. 

John sets his jaw as he opens the door to the flat. As his nose had predicted, every surface of the flat is covered with vases and bunches of roses. The kitchen table, the coffee table, their desk, the fireplace mantle - everywhere. Roses of every conceivable colour - red, white, yellow, even others dyed in unnatural hues of purple and blue. 

“What the..” John's head whips around. 

The footsteps are quick behind me. “Oh, you're home.”

“Sherlock, what the bloody hell? Do you know who sent these?” John scans for a card.

“Well I did, of course,” he replies.

John frowns. “What?”

Sherlock waves his arm as to present every last bouquet. “Happy Valentine's Day.”

John blinks. “What?”

“It's February 14th. Historically, it's Valentine's Day.” 

“Yes, but I don't understand.” John shakes his head.

“Lestrade suggested that I procure bunches of roses for you,” Sherlock explains slowly. “Hence...roses.”

John's lips twitch to a smile. “Bunches of roses?”

“Yes. He said you might expect some kind of token based on the romantic turn our relationship has taken recently, and he said...and I quote, ‘bunches of roses are what one usually gets’.” Sherlock says with exasperation. 

John chuckles softly and closes the distance between them. “You gorgeous berk.” Without hesitation, he kisses Sherlock fully. “I think he meant a bunch of roses, as in one dozen. Not all the roses in London.”


End file.
